Conspiracy of Souls
by MapleCFreter
Summary: Branching off from canon in the third year when an injured Sirius comes to Lupin for help. Follows Remus and Sirius as they try to clear Sirius's name and become involved in a conspiracy which runs from Azkaban to the heart of the Ministry. Mysterious wizard secret agents. Corruption. And where do dementors come from? An evil larger than even Voldemort may be at play.
1. Chapter 1: Old Friends

Remus Lupin gazed at the stack of papers on his desk. It was much too late for any respectable professor to be starting his grading, he thought, but sat at his desk all the same, searching through the mess for a lantern. The only light in the room was the half moon. It was a clear night and the half visible cosmic body filled the professor with both dread and relief. Lighting the old lantern with a flick of his wand he heard a whimper, like an injured animal. It hadn't come in through the window. Whatever had made the sound was very close. Lantern in on hand, pointed wand in the other, Remus slowly swept the office.

In the corner the shuttering Bogart wardrobe made with the wall a black mound shifted. And as Remus slowly approached, the pool of lantern light advancing with him, he realized it was breathing; shakily, with a raspy uneven rhythm.

When the black dog raised its head Lupin jumped almost a foot backwards in surprise. But setting the lantern on the floor, the demeanour of a war-hardened wizard quickly took over.

"Don't move." Lupin's hand was steady, pointed at the mangy animal. "Twitch and I'll end you. I will."

Right before his eyes the animagus transformed, a man spilling outwards from the corner so that he lay on his back, eyes half open, breathing still raspy. With the dirty hair, sallow face, and clothes which were barely more than rags this man looked very different than the Sirius he had known. It was so unmistakeably his best friend however, that for a second Lupin stood frozen. It had been so long

"Hey, Remus," the criminal croaked, as if it pained him to speak. "Long time no see."

Lupin realized then that he was clutching his stomach, blood bubbling up through his fingers. He was very injured, not going anywhere.

"I'm turning you in." By some miracle Lupin managed to keep his voice emotionless.

"Please," Sirius whispered. "I wouldn't have done this to you. I wouldn't have dragged you in but I had no other option. You're all I have left."

"You betrayed James and Lily, killed Peter, if you honestly think I'd still consider you a friend you've gone even madder than I thought."

"After all we went through together I expected a little more faith. Or at least I did..." He paused to take a deep, shuttering breath "...at the beginning. You may have abandoned me then, but I understand, I don't blame you. Just now that I'm here please—for old time's sake—just listen. I didn't do it. I was framed!" It was like he was trying to increase volume but could not get enough air in his lungs. "I never could have. God, I couldn't have. I loved them."

There was a glaze in his dark eyes and he stared until Lupin looked away.

"Before I can hear a word you're saying I'm going to need proof." As Remus spoke the words burned his throat.

He couldn't let himself even think, even hope. Sirius's hands, where they had been covering his wound, began to slip, and he shuttered as if from cold.

"Hey!" Lupin kicked him in the shoulder. "Hey! Don't you dare pass out, not now."

He got down on his knees, grabbing the shabby man under the arms, trying to hold him upright.

"It was Wormtail," Sirius hissed, through gritted teeth. "The little rat's not dead. He's here..." Sirius gripped Lupin's arm, fingers digging in so hard it started to hurt. "Remus, he's here in the castle. He's here..."

As Sirius Black slipped into unconsciousness Lupin found himself in a rather difficult position. On one hand, if his friend was innocent he could not turn him over to the dementors, but on the other Sirius could be tricking him, using their past to his advantage. Either for good or for bad, Lupin did not have time to think. A decision was made for him when a loud crash resounded from what sounded like directly outside his classroom.

Being found with a wanted fugitive was probably not very good for his career, and it wasn't like Sirius was going to escape. Place under his desk. Cover in jackets. A quick attention diversion charm. Lupin did it all on instinct before darting from his office. Out in the hall he almost ran head long into Professor Snape who only acknowledged him with a grunt before continuing to run. His black cloak billowed out behind him as he barrelled down the darkened corridor. Lupin gave chase as well, lighting the end of the wand, though it warranted a round of complaints from the sleeping portraits he passed.

Sliding around the next corner they came face to face with Harry Potter himself clutching a brown rat to his chest. On the floor a rather ugly orange cat hissed, tail puffed up in a way that would have been quite comical, had Lupin not been preoccupied with other things.

"Mister. Potter." Severus paused after each word, drawing himself up to his full height, obviously taking pleasure in the fear he instilled in the thirteen year old boy. "Do you mind explaining to me what exactly you're doing wandering the corridors at this hour?"

Harry clutched the rat to his chest, casting a look at Lupin as if begging for help. "This is Ron's rat. I couldn't just let him get eaten, could I?"

"Give it here." Snape held out his hands. "This is clear negligence, and behaviour indicating an unfit animal owner."

Harry hesitated, looking again at Lupin, but eventually placed the struggling rodent in Snape's palm. The dark haired man dropped it into one of the deep pockets of his cloak before turning his attention back to the boy.

"Severus, do you really think that's necessary?" Lupin tried, fighting to hide the deep seeded dislike that the other man obviously shared.

"I'm saving the poor animal, Remus," he shot back, seeming not to have tried at all to hide the hatred in his voice. "To me the unnecessary death of a pet is a tragedy. We do what we can, as intelligent creatures, to protect them from the predators that would do them harm."

He gave a sweeping gesture that started with the cat on the floor but ended, not at all accidentally, on Lupin himself.

"I'm going to hang onto it, and if I ever see fit to return it to the Weasley boy I will."

The rat could just barely be seen squirming deep inside the folds of the black cloth.

"Potter..." Snape said. "Empty your pockets."

Remus's heart went out to James's son, stuck to face the wrath of Severus, but as Snape's college there was very little he could do. It was beyond obvious that the man was taking out his grudge against James on the boy and that made Lupin angry. Hadn't the poor child been through enough?

"Potter..."

Harry withdrew something from the pocket of his sweater. No... it couldn't be.

"It's just a piece of parchment, sir."

Snape pointed his wand at what Lupin knew now must be the map and said, "reveal your secrets."

Just as expected it showed the preprogrammed joke message, which Snape forced poor Harry to read aloud.

_"__Mr Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business.  
Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.  
Mr Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a Professor.  
Mr Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slime-ball."_

So ridiculous was the situation that Lupin knew he would have laughed, had the current situation not been what it was. Instead it felt like a punch to the gut, a reminder of how happy he'd used to be, and of the best years of his life. They were all gone now, all of them but the traitor he had left under his desk.

"Remus. Professor Lupin!" Snape had been speaking to him.

"Uh, sorry. What?"

"I was just saying how it is probably best for our defence against the dark arts teacher to investigate an artifact of such devious origin."

"Oh." Remus couldn't believe it. Was the git really going to hand it over to him? "I'm sure it's not, clearly just a piece of paper enchanted to insult anyone who tries to use it. But just in case... I better take it to my office to investigate fully."

When the slime-ball of a professor had gone on his way, not before dropping an illdisguised werewolf joke of course, Lupin spoke to Harry.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he said, bringing the familiar object to life, and all the emotions and memories that came with it.

There was astonishment in Harry's green eyes. He had obviously not put the pieces together yet. Mooney... Prongs...

"I don't know how you got a hold of this map, but I'm astounded you didn't turn it in. Imagine this in the hands of Sirius Black." The words were out before he could stop them. What a hypocrite he was.

The boy bowed his head. "The map doesn't even work sometimes."

"What do you mean? The map is never wrong."

"Well, I saw someone on it I know is dead."

"Who?"

Lupin crushed the sides of the map in his hands. It felt as if his stomach had dropped to his knees and he heard Harry's next words before he even said them.

"Peter Pettigrew."

He didn't remember what he said to Harry next, or sending him off to his dorm. All he remembered was the guilt that hit him like a wave, drowning him as he ran back towards the man he'd left bleeding out on his office floor.


	2. Chapter 2: Arrival of the Agents

The sun was up, and life at Hogwarts continued as normal. Well, as normal as life could proceed with dementors hovering beside every entrance. In truth, there was a sort of shroud over the school that day. There was less excitement in the voices of the students as they greeted their friends, less attention payed to the lessons. It was not yet winter but there was a chill in the air, and many had donned their winter robes.

"Professor!" Harry's voice reached Lupin's ears at the worst possible time.

He was on his way to the infirmary. He'd done his best last night stealing some supplies, but Sirius's condition was stable, at best, and he needed to make a second run. He hated all this, sneaking around after Dumbledore had worked so hard to get him a job. But the life of an innocent man was at steak; an innocent man and his best friend.

Harry was not alone. The smart girl with the messy hair—Hermione—was with him.

"Sir," she began, as they approached.

"Yes?"

"I don't wish to bother you, but the strange wizards in the great hall. Who are they?"

"Do you know?" Harry asked, quickly adding, "sir?"

"Just call me Lupin, and I'm afraid that no, I do not. I wasn't aware Hogwarts was expecting any guests. "I'll tell you what. If I find out I'll be sure to tell you. You'll be coming to class later today, I'm sure." He winked.

"Of course, professor." Hermione answered, looking a little bit offended, though that may have just been her face.

As he turned to leave Harry called him back once more. "Lupin... um... about last night. Are you feeling okay?"

"Of course, why do you ask?"

Too observant, that boy, just like his mother, Lupin thought.

"You just left really quickly. I don't know. You seemed a bit upset, I was worried I'd done something to offend you."

Lupin forced a smile. "Nothing like that. I was tired. It was awfully late that you were up, Mr. Potter."

Harry looked down sheepishly, and Lupin took his leave. He did not have much of a foundation of knowledge in medical magic, but he was a fast learner. Though deep inside something to him the bleeding wasn't Sirius's only ailment.

News of the mysterious visitors spread fast through the school. Students clustered and watched, talking in hushed voices, despite Filches repetitive suggestion that they should all get to class. They didn't dress like any wizards or witches they'd seen before. They all wore matching attire, the under part of which muggleborn students in the throng quickly identified to be business suits. Over top they wore long black robes, open with tight fitting sleeves and stiff collars. When Dumbledore appeared to lead the group of five up to his office he found himself pushing through a crowd of onlookers who had collected conspicuously around the doors to the great hall.

All this commotion elsewhere in the castle made Lupin's mission slightly easier than it would have been. Some herbs, bandages, he added the spoils to the food he'd stolen earlier that morning and hurried back to his office. It had occurred to him last night the trouble he would be in if he was caught. They had nowhere near enough proof to convince anyone of what he had realized, and with his... condition... they probably wouldn't hesitate before throwing him in Azkaban. The problem of where to hide Sirius had been of the greatest concern, but he believed he'd come up with a rather clever excuse.

Pulling his thick, black drapes over the window and securing both it and the door with the most heavy duty protection spells he knew, he opened the door to the wardrobe which had once housed the Bogart. It was much bigger on the inside. Why, there were studio apartments around the same size.

Sirius Black sat in the very back corner, slumped forward and wrapped in a blanket. Lupin sat down next to him, waiting for his friend to look up.

"How are you?" he finally asked, though the question sounded stupid once it had left his mouth.

Slowly, Sirius raised his head. He could really have used a shower, dirt on his face and what appeared to be a twig tangled in his hair.

"I'm going to kill him, Remus," he croaked, with a cold in his eyes that Lupin had never seen there before, that made him almost unrecognizable. "I'll squash that rat and it'll be the happiest I've been in twelve years."

"If you kill him," Remus took great care as he guided Sirius from the wardrobe, "then we'll have no one to send back to Azkaban in your place."

That seemed to shut him up, and Sirius stayed silent, with oddly vacant eyes, as Lupin applied the herbs and changed the bandages. He'd sat Sirius down on the big armchair he had in his office and sat cross legged on a footstool himself while he worked.

"You're going to have to promise you'll stay in there," Lupin broke the silence, nodding towards the now open wardrobe.

Sirius grunted, sounding very noncommittal.

"Seriously, Sirius." He couldn't help but smile a little at the memory of an old joke. "The castle is crawling with dementors. They say they'll stay at the entrance but they don't. Dumbledore has a real problem with it. I think he's talking to the Ministry about it."

The man before him shuttered, before speaking the longest string of words since he'd woken. "Dumbledore's the smartest man I know. Having those things this close to children, they're madder than they're saying I am."

"Well, you'd know." Again Lupin found himself regretting the words as soon as they'd left his mouth. "About Wormtail."

He changed the subject and just like that the fire was back in Sirius's eyes, and he leaned forward in anticipation.

"Severus has him," Lupin admitted. "I think he's taken a liking to him." He gave a forced laugh. "Imagine if he knew it was Peter. He carries him around with him sometimes. He might not even be there even if I could break into his office."

"I'll kill Snape too, the dirty bastard."

"Now how is that going to convince anyone you're not a murderer?" Suddenly a more positive topic of conversation struck Lupin. "Don't you want to see Harry? You're still his godfather. Shit, if you got cleared they might even let him live with you."

Sirius's eyes had really warmed at the prospect, and Lupin felt a little better seeing this. There was even a slight curve to his upper lip. He was smiling, not the mad one he was known for but a real one, a kind one.

"He looks just like James, don't you think?" Sirius asked.

Funnily enough, Lupin's first thought on seeing him had been of Lily.

Sirius continued. "I followed him around a bit, before I found Wormtail. I didn't know what to do with myself. The way those Dursleys treat him..."

The anger was back all of a sudden. Remus had noticed that it was one of his friends two states. It was either the rage or a sort of dull trance, like his soul had been taken already. The only time he'd broken the cycle is when they'd been discussing Harry.

As Sirius ate, ravenously like he hadn't done so in days—he probably hadn't—they talked. Lupin tried to keep them on topics he knew his friend would like. Mostly, it was memories from their Hogwarts days, as right here in the castle they could almost imagine they'd never left. In twelve years he'd not spoken to his best friend, and yet it was still natural. It was like no time had passed at all. Lupin was genuinely happy, despite the circumstances, optimistic even. For he knew one thing. Now that Sirius was back, and he knew the truth, he would be unable to allow him to be taken from him again.

The clock on the wall sadly brought their conversation to a close as the feast was fast approaching and Lupin knew he was already pushing his luck. Despite the obvious necessity of the situation Sirius did not seem eager to return to the wardrobe. He stared at the doors looking particularly ragged and it occurred to Remus that he would have to get him something to wear aside from a badly damaged prison uniform.

"I spent twelve years in a cell about that size," he said, "afraid to leave because of the dementors outside. This really isn't all that different."

Lupin grimaced. "If there was any other way... But every witch or wizard, every muggle in all of England is looking for you."

All of a sudden it was not a man but a familiar black dog standing in front of him. Padfoot gave a look like he was an ordinary dog, begging for food at the end of the table.

"Not a bad idea." Lupin raised an eyebrow. "You want me to take you for a walk, boy?"

The massive hound bristled, baring its teeth and growling, but Lupin was not intimidated.

"How about this?" Lupin tried. "Tomorrow sit in on my classes, as long as you're smart about it. Don't cause trouble or draw attention. There are no dementors past the gates and you'll get to see Harry."

Just like that Sirius was back, stepping obediently into the wardrobe with a dramatic flourish and a half bow.

"If can get Wormtail," said Lupin, as a parting word of reassurance, "I will."

As he walked to the great hall he wondered if maybe he should go to Dumbledore. Maybe not with the information that he was hiding Sirius Black, but once Peter was proven to be alive that could come later. If there was anyone who would stand behind them it was the headmaster. He'd try to pull him aside after the meal.

It felt strange, sitting with the staff instead of at the familiar long tables. He'd gotten mostly used to it but the long talk with Sirius had brought it back. From his new birds-eye view of the room he could easily watch the strange wizards and witch in the suits who had appeared near the doors. They did not come in, and he noted that not all of them were present. Where were they? He suddenly had a horrible picture in his head of them opening the wardrobe door to find Sirius. Anxiety rested heavy in his stomach and he could barely eat. It felt like eyes were on him, from the mystery suits and from his fellow teachers. They knew he and Sirius had been friends. It must be on their minds, the question of if he was helping him.

Across the ceiling of the great hall floated thin, grey clouds, barely obscuring the dusky sky. He'd heard the students as he'd walked to his place, and even now, voices wafting up from the floor below. Sirius was near the only topic of conversation. He'd been spotted nearby just days before, by a muggle who'd called her local authorities.

"I bet he's here right now," he'd overheard one fifth year saying, obviously trying to frighten the younger students that listened attentively.

"Nu-uh," one had protested. "You've seen those dementors. Not even Black could get past them, he couldn't."

"He did once."

"How do you reckon he did it?" Someone asked, in a different conversation.

"I bet he's working with them," hissed an especially inventive Ravenclaw. "Those Azkaban guards. They're evil, Black's evil, it makes sense. He'll probably come right up to the gates and they'll just give him a high five and let him pass."

If only that was true... From the look of Sirius it appeared that the dementors had not been kind to him the years he'd been away. He'd been in high security, Lupin knew that. How that differed from the rest of Azkaban he was unsure, and though his curiosity had been peaked he was afraid to ask.

From the far end of the table he felt Snape's eyes on him, beady and mocking. If he hadn't now been a respectable professor Lupin knew without a doubt that he would have socked him, broken that hooked nose. Childhood grudges were one thing, and sure they'd been a bit cruel back in the day, but Severus held a grudge like no one he'd ever known. To make things worse, he was forced to go monthly to Snape to collect that wolfsbane potion. That was by far the worst thing about his time at Hogwarts so far. It was all disdainful looks and cruel jabs. In theory he was lucky to have Snape, seeing as he was one of the few potion makers talented enough to brew it... but he just couldn't feel gratitude when the man acted as he did.

That was it. Maybe he could grab Wormtail from Snape's office when he went to collect his potion. But that wasn't a very good plan, and he hoped that this would all be over before he was in need of it. He could only keep Sirius in a wardrobe for so long, and the full moon was five days away.

Dumbledore got up to make a speech, and as paranoid as he was Lupin feared that it concerned Sirius, as many had previously. His stomach had not unknotted for the duration of the meal.

Instead, if was something much worse. "Ladies, gentlemen," he began. "It is with a heavy heart that I announce my brief coming absence here at Hogwarts. I depart for the Ministry tonight. I should only be there a day, two at most, but something has come up and it is imperative that I go. In my absence, the ministry has sent guards to help both in security and in... dealing with the dementors."

Albus Dumbledore had an impeccable poker face, but Lupin couldn't sense a buried anger in the man, a discomfort as he spoke of the strange witch and wizards at the back of the hall. Though it could have just been the dementors. His hatred for them was not hidden.

"Classes will continue as usual. Staff, please report to Professor Mcgonagall until I return."

He had to speak to Dumbledore before he left. There was no time. As the headmaster dismissed the feast, Lupin got to his feet and prepared to give chase.


	3. Chapter 3: Without Dumbledore

"Remus!" Minerva's shrill voice caught him as he descended the stairs down from the professors' table. "Meeting. In the staff room. Now."

"One moment, I'll be right there," Lupin called behind him as he tried his best to wade through the flood of students.

Dumbledore was just a little ahead of him, but after the din he could not hear his calls. Adrenaline raced through his body. What would he say? Just come out with it? _Peter Pettigrew is alive. We've been wrong all these years, locked an innocent man in the worst place on earth. _

Out in the corridor he called, "Dumbledore!"

The aged wizard seemed not to hear, but he was gaining. He would be upon him in seconds. Then, seeming out of nothing, two Ministry agents stepped in front of him. They were both taller than he was, each placing a hand on his shoulders gently, but with a hint of menace.

"Professor Remus Lupin," one of them said, in a flat voice. "We need to have a word with you."

"Of course, of course," Lupin had eyes for nothing but Dumbledore. "In one moment. I just must have a word with the headmaster. Headmaster!" He tried yelling, but Dumbledore had just rounded the next corner, and these men weren't letting him move at inch. "Please." He turned to them. "It is of grave importance."

"So is this. Now please, Professor." The man gestured, like a host, in the opposite direction.

There was no escape. They guided him down the corridor, though he felt that there was a very thin line between this and being dragged. He'd missed his opportunity, not to mention that this probably meant that the jig was up completely. Lupin looked upwards as the two burly wizards steered. The familiar ghost of Nearly Headless Nick hovered near the ceiling watching with concern.

They sat him down in his own office, and Lupin fought to look anywhere but the wardrobe. He knew Sirius would be able to hear every word they said and he prayed that he would stay still. His friend had always been smart, but who knew what twelve years in Azkaban had done to his judgement?

The one who had spoken to him out in the hall got up to lock the door. He was dark skinned with very short cropped black hair and a scar across his jaw. The other had a blond military cut and a rather pudgy face. They didn't look like the normal Department of Magical Law Enforcement agents. Fighting in the First Wizarding War Lupin had seen all kinds, but he could not place where these agents could be from. A new division within the Ministry perhaps? Whatever they were they did not look particularly friendly. Scar took a seat across the desk in the chair which was usually his, and blondy sat on the corner of the desk so that he was looking down at him.

Scar wrinkled his nose at his ragged travel case, looking at him with disdain.

"Gentlemen," Lupin began, trying to keep up his calm facade. "What can I do for you? And may I enquire as to your names?"

"It would be better." Scar leaned across his desk, crushing the piles of papers. "I think, if we were to remain anonymous. We're here on behalf of the Ministry in response to your headmaster's complaints regarding the Azkaban guards, but we have another mission as well. Have you heard of the Magical Divergence Census Project?"

"I'm afraid to say that I haven't."

"That's quite alright, it's very new. We're getting our start here at Hogwarts, along with at the Ministry itself."

The blond took over then. His voice was higher, more nasally, lacking the intimidating gravel of the previous man. "Too much in the wizarding world goes on outside the scope of the Ministry's gaze. Information, Professor. It's the weapon of the future. We're building a data base. All witches, wizards, and... creatures, of interest will be required to fill out a file. They must also be willing to submit to check-ins regularly throughout their lives, keeping the Ministry updated as to their current place or places of residence and future plans."

This was not what he had feared, but the wizard's words struck Lupin the wrong way all the same. "Couldn't that be considered an invasion of privacy?"

Scar scoffed. "What's privacy when the database we're building will solve crimes in a third of the time? It could even prevent an organization like You-know-who's from forming in the future. We hope that soon it will be common place, part of living in the magical world. We'll start here in Britain but through the International Council of Warlocks it could go global. Even muggleborns are required to have files, and young behavioural cases. It's really any divergence at all, from the norm."

"I'm sure, Professor," Blondy leaned so far forward that Lupin was forced to sink all the way back into his chair, "that you must understand why you're one of our first stops. Dumbledore must have a lot of faith in you, placing you in a position so close to children."

Lupin concentrated on his breathing. Fill the lungs. Exhale slowly. Fill the lungs. There was a bang from the wardrobe. Both men stiffened, wands out.

"What's that?"

"Just a Bogart," Lupin reassured, cursing Sirius mentally with every vial slur he knew. "I teach defence against the dark arts. It's good for the children to have hands on learning, I find."

So he was lying, but despite his Bogart being the moon there was nothing Lupin feared more at that moment than what the agents would find if they were to open that wardrobe. Thankfully they did not pursue it and Sirius had the good sense to stay silent for the rest of the ordeal. And what a thoroughly unpleasant ordeal it was. The survey was long and intricate, delving into bad parts of his past he did not wish to revisit, and addressing his very worst fears. What made things worse was that avoiding certain truths was not an option. Scar had an object Lupin had never seen before that he called a deception-sphere. It was a black marble that would hover in the air if it sensed a lie. He knew that devices like this were imprecise and not admissible in court, but all the same. They treated him like a criminal, something he was used to, but it dawned on him that young muggleborn students would be subject to nearly the same process.

How could Fudge have possibly allowed something like this? It was prejudice, persecutory, and strangely reminiscent of Voldemort—if the dark wizard had cared at all for red tape and bureaucracy. Remus felt that this was the sort of thing he would have gone to Dumbledore about if hadn't had a much more pressing matter to discuss with the man when he finally got the chance.

When the agents finally left, Lupin slumped forward, head in hands. He felt as if he'd just had tea with a dementor so drained was he of any happiness. No sooner had the door closed then the wardrobe cracked open slightly. Cautiously, a black dog hopped out. Lupin didn't look up at first, and Padfoot slumped down beside his chair, head on paws. They sat like that for quite some time before, shaking himself from his daze, he got up to finally get Sirius some clothes.

They were about the same size so he pulled out a set of robes from his travelling case.

"Man, Remus," Sirius was back in human form again. "Do you own anything without a hole in it? Those are almost as ratty as my current clothes."

Lupin threw them at him wordlessly. "Well, this is the longest I've kept a job in three years, if you want the truth."

Sirius winced. "How great we've all turned out. And think how much promise the four of us showed back in Hogwarts."

He went into the wardrobe to change and Lupin, as his eyes had landed on it where it lay on his desk, had opened the map.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Sirius peaked his head out, hurrying over to rejoin him. It really was like old times. He scanned the parchment closely searching for Peter Pettigrew. There he was, down in the dungeons, in Snape's private quarters.

"At least we know where he is," Lupin said, trying to sound positive. "You won't be searching blind anymore. Seriously Sirius, the fat lady. What were you thinking? The whole school slept in the great hall that night. I've never seen the children so scared."

"I was thinking I wanted that slimy waste of air dead," said Sirius, in a deep voice that sent an uncomfortable chill up Lupin's spine. "I couldn't have cared less if they sent me back to Azkaban. I just wanted him dead... dead like they are."

It took Lupin a few seconds to figure out how to respond. "And am I to take that past tense as a good sign?"

There was a grunt from the man standing behind him. "You're right. In there it's easy to lose sight of reasons for living, aside from revenge. But I have Harry... and you..." he trailed off.

Just then something caught his eye on the parchment before him, but he did not point it out to Sirius, knowing that it would be impossible to keep him from coming with him.

"I have to go to bed," said Lupin, trying to sound nonchalant. "Please promise you'll stay in there, won't you?"

"I will tonight, but we'll discuss it again tomorrow."

As Sirius shut himself inside Lupin hurried from the room, folding the map but not wiping it. He locked the door, not to keep Sirius in, but more so as to keep others out. What he had seen had been three names, all clustered very close together, and conspicuously not in their dormitories where they should have been. Harry Potter and his two friends, how very much they reminded him of the marauders, as they'd called themselves. How ridiculous it was, thinking back.

When he'd first glanced at the map they three had been standing very close to another cluster of names which he had not recognized, spying obviously. But now they stood alone in the second floor corridor, still not moving. This concerned him slightly.

When he stepped from the stairwell the concern make a quick jump to terror. It was very cold, the kind of cold that reached right to ones core. The lanterns that normally lit the corridors had gone out and he couldn't help the feeling of dread that had settled over him. Dumbledore had left and here they were, first night, wandering the corridors. They very thought of the parasites drifting into one of the dorms made anger well up, pushing away the fear.

Rounding the next corner he saw them; three dementors, clustering near the wall around something he could not see.

"Expecto Patronum!" This time he chose the memory of when his friends had first shown him their animagus forms and he'd realized that—for the first time in his life—he wasn't alone anymore.

He'd never let anything happen to Harry. He owed James that and so much more. A massive, sliver wolf irrupted from his wand. It chased the dementors down the hallway before circling back to where they had been, as if concerned for the children under the cloak.

The piece of familiar fabric crumpled to the floor to reveal a very pale and trembling Ron and Hemione, supporting Harry between them. He was unconscious. As the light from his patronus faded away Lupin lit his wand and took the limp boy from his two friends, laying him gently on the floor. Right now was not the time for scolding.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Both nodded, eyes still wide. He had no chocolate with him, but they waited there all the same for Harry to come around. During that time, Hermione told him something interesting. They'd been spying on the Ministry agents, the ones in the suits, and they had observed something shocking.


	4. Chapter 4: Of Spirits and Souls

Harry did not look well. He leaned heavily on Ron for support as the group of four moved through the pitch black Hogwarts corridors. None among them had re-lit their wands.

The only voice was Hermione's, speaking as if someone had jinxed her to be unable to stop. "We're really sorry, Professor, we are. It's just, those Ministry agents were so suspicious, and Dumbledore would never just leave like that. We knew they were up to something."

"And they were!" added Ron, excitedly.

"They'd just emerged onto the great central staircase. Portraits cluttered the walls on all sides. The moving stairs swung across the expanse, clicking into place a level up and across from where they'd been.

"Show me what you found," said Lupin, gravely.

"I think it was right around here." Hermione moved along the wall, starting at the paintings intently.

She stopped beside a large mountain landscape with what looked like a dragon circling in the distance.

"There it is!" She was pointing to a small painting between this one and a portrait of a sleeping witch in a large, white wig."

It didn't look like much, just a rich, red background with a few small, shiny bugs scuttling around.

"I don't understand?" said Lupin. "They hung up a painting? Is there something behind it."

"No!" said Hermione, frustrated. "You don't understand. When they hung it up you couldn't see a bit of red. It was like a texture of beetles. Then... they scattered, scuttled out through all the other paintings. Look."

And to Lupin's shock he saw one, two paintings over, walking slowly across the chess board of two dozing wizards. It paused in its tracks, seeming to look at him.

"I still don't understand," Harry finally spoke. "Hermione gasped but we didn't get much chance to talk after that. They almost found us."

"Well," said Hermione. "It's obvious, isn't it? Professor?"

Lupin had put the pieces together himself but still commended the girl for her deductive skills.

"They're like spies, all of the castle. It's full of paintings. They're like hidden cameras." She looked at Harry, knowing he would understand the muggle comparison.

"Oh, I get it." His eyes lit up. "They quite literally bugged Hogwarts."

After sending the children to bed with a quick scoldings and instructions to dip into the Honeydukes stashes he knew they had, Remus almost ran back to his office. Much to his dismay Sirius was out of the wardrobe, sitting on the floor beside a familiar orange cat, petting it.

"In. Now!"

Sirius, obviously having sensed the urgency did as he asked without so much as a word. There were only two paintings in Lupin's office. One was a winter landscape, the other a miniature of a dignified wizard he did not recognize. They had both been here when he moved in. The cat hissed at him, obviously angry that its petting session had been cut short, but Lupin ignored it. Both paintings, thankfully, seemed to be bug free, and he placed them face down in the corner.

"What's going on?" Sirius hissed from inside the wardrobe.

"They're watching through the paintings," said Lupin. "Just stay in there. Go to sleep. I'll be back in the morning."

Kicking the cat out as he left, Lupin proceeded to remove the charts in the classroom—though those might not have counted—and the one painting in the hall outside. Satisfied, he hurried to get a few hours of sleep.

The next day was a nerve wracking one for Lupin. He and Sirius talked over breakfast, as he opted to smuggled up food and eat in his office. Sirius still looked worryingly thin, skeletal almost. Lupin was sure to bring him as much as he could safety conceal. This was the first time he'd gotten the whole story told to him straight and everything began to make sense. Sirius explained how he'd kept his head so well in Azkaban, and how learning that Pettigrew was at Hogwarts with Harry had given him to the strength to escape. How Pettigrew had blasted apart the street and killed the muggles Sirius had been blamed for. Sirius, who felt incredibly guilty he been the one to convince James and Lily to change secret keepers at the last moment.

"I as good as killed them," Sirius grunted. "I'm so sorry Remus. I didn't trust you and it got them killed. Why I would have thought you were the spy over that rat..."

"It was a turbulent time," Lupin soothed. "And it was Peter that killed them. You've payed ten times over for your mistake. You were my friend I shouldn't have believed you'd betrayed them."

Sirius nodded. "You loved them like I did. I know that. That's why I know you'll understand. I want my name cleared, more than almost anything, but it comes second."

Lupin did not like where this was going.

"First is revenge, for James. If we can give Peter to the dementors I will be happy. It is truly a fate worse than death. But we have to face the fact that it may not be possible. And having him here puts Harry in danger, I know you know that. If we get the chance and getting my name cleared does not seem like an immediate option I need to know you'll be with me in killing him. He betrayed them, Remus. I know it burns you up inside too, when you think of him."

Lupin hated himself for what he said, but he knew he would have been lying if he'd answered any other way. "I'm with you."

A cold smiled spread across Sirius's face and Lupin had to look away.

"Good," he said. "Peter should have known that if Voldemort didn't kill him we would, together."

There was a silence then as they ate, but there was what could have been a glint of tears in Sirius's eyes.

Finally, he broke the silence. "What do you think happens to the souls the dementors consume?"

Lupin was taken aback at the question. "You know what, I don't think anyone knows."

"I had a lot of time to think about things like that in Azkaban. The dementors were really the only things to think about. We know ghosts chose not to move to the other side, and bad wizards have souls so damaged they don't have that choice... but is it the same for those who receive the kiss? Do they go... somewhere? Or do they just disappear forever?"

Sirius may have been disguising his questions as scientific curiosity but Lupin saw the fear behind it.

"I say we find Peter so that neither of us ever have to find out," he said, and gripped Sirius's arm across the desk. "Be careful today. Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't do anything to incriminate you," he said, "but I don't think I'll be able to do another night in there." He pointed to the wardrobe as if it had done something to personally offend him. "I was fine living in the forest. I got in and out of the castle plenty of times as Padfoot. We can still keep in contact."

That did not sound like a very good idea to Lupin, but the clock on the wall stopped him from making his argument. "We'll talk about this later, but right now class is about to start. Come on."

As Sirius was not the first animal he had brought into class students were curious about him, disappointed by his insistence that he was just an ordinary dog: despite his size. Sirius probably enjoyed the attention, but as the day wore on Lupin felt like his heart was going to give out from stress.

His last class of the day was the third year Gryffindors. He prepared his notes on his desk. Sirius, who had been sitting lazily at his feet got up, seeming to have put two and two together as to who's class this was. When the boy himself entered he saw the dog right away and froze, going sheet white.

"Are you quite alright, Harry?" asked a concerned Hermione.

Harry did not take his eyes off Padfoots hulking form as he moved to his desk.

"Looks a bit like the grim, doesn't it?" asked Ron Weasly.

Harry did not stay sitting long, coming hurriedly, still a bit white, to the front of the room.

"Is that your dog, Professor?" he asked, in a hushed voice.

Padfoot was currently staring at Harry, and Lupin couldn't even begin to imagine how he must have been feeling.

"In a way..." Lupin answered cautiously. "He's just an ordinary dog. He's not here for today's lesson, just to keep me company."

Harry did not look convinced that this was just an ordinary dog. "And has he been at the castle a while?"

"Yes, he's been around."

Much to Lupin's surprise a look of immense relief crossed Harry's face. He looked as if a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders, practically joyful. Harry patted Sirius on the head before nodding this thanks to Lupin.

"It's just that after Professor Trelawney said I had the grim... Well, he scared me a couple of times."

Lupin began to laugh before stopping himself, seeing that the class was watching.

"What's his name?" Harry asked.

It had left Lupin's mouth before he could realize the mistake he was making. "Padfoot."

And Harry's eyes flashed in recognition.

"No relation to the map," Lupin added, trying desperately to mend the result of his stupidity.

Harry did not look convinced, but he patted Sirius one more time and went to take his seat. He and Ron whispered frantically to each other, something Lupin chose to ignore.

"Today," Lupin began, casting a look at Padfoot who was currently wagging his tale wildly, "we will be learning about ghosts."

"Ghosts?" cried Lavender Brown from the first row. "But they're perfectly harmless. How do they count as dark arts?"

"They don't," said Lupin, "in almost all reported cases. It is true that a soul damaged by evil deeds and dark magic may not return as a ghost. But very little is known about the process. There have been reports, for as long as there have been wizards, of evil ghosts."

Hermione's hand was up.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Do you mean spirits? Like Peeves? That's what people mean, in most cases, when they say they've encountered an evil ghost. But Peeves was never a human."

"Very good, very good. That is all true. In fact, our next unit is on amortals. They're one of the most frightening topics to study because of how little we know about them. Some species are well studied: the banshee, the poltergeist. But others like the dementor and the hostile apparitions that lead to violation haunting are mysteries. Amortals, for all those who don't know, were never born and instead grew, and therefor can never die."

"I used to be scared of spirits as a child," said Ron, speaking out of turn. Lupin decided to let him continue. "My dad told me that at the ministry they have whole departments that research spirits. You can't be as afraid of something if you understand it."

"Extraordinary wise words!" Lupin boomed. "Such is the bases behind this class. And speaking of research; I feel that to regurgitate the findings of others into essays is of little use other than to actually get you to do the readings. Facts are facts, and they are important, don't get me wrong. But the best most wonderful part of learning, and the part that is often so lacking in school, is learning the things that no one else has learned before. Discovery!"

There was a titter of laughter from the class.

"That's why I'm assigning a project in which you will examine evidence and draw your own conclusions."

They stared up at him with wide eyes. They didn't look unhappy though, he was glad to note, not groaning like students normally did when a project was assigned. It was more curiosity he read on their faces.

"Now, this project will require some creativity. Read all the books in the library and you won't find that. Start with the idea that there are no incorrect answers here, only poorly drawn conclusions. I want you all to chose a documented case of a violent haunting or ghostly disturbance. This can be in the muggle or wizarding world. Then I want you to collect as much information on it as you can find—so I suggest choosing a well known one—and drawing conclusions from it."

He turned to the blackboard and wrote as he spoke.

_"__Human or Amortal?Why?_

_What do you think the cause was?_

_Are there any prevailing theories? If so, do you agree?"_

He turned away from the bored. "And that's just a jumping off point. I find that if you're researching a topic your interested in it's easy to get pulled in. Since class isn't over we'll get a start choosing topics and finding materials. I don't want you all doing the same case, but if two of you are really set on something it will be fine. We're going the the library as a class. There are a couple of good books I can recommend that list these sorts of occurrences, unless you have one in mind already that is."

Much to Lupin's discomfort Sirius accompanied them to the library, but it was hard to worry when the children were talking excitedly around them. He loved teaching, he did. The accomplishment of making them excited for research project made pride glow in his chest.

In the library he gave them one more parting encouragement. "Think of yourselves as detectives. The clues are here in this library. Interpret them! We will be presenting our findings to the class two weeks from today."

It was all together a great class. Sirius stayed by his side, not wandering off, which was a small comfort. During the course of the class Lupin signed two slips to the restricted section, and comforted a frightened Neville who he made sure to steer towards one of the tamer cases: a family of muggles who had almost undoubtedly encountered a poltergeist.

That night Lupin went to Professor Mcgonagall to talk about the bug painting and Dumbledore's sudden absence among other things. Much to his dismay however, when he arrived at her office it was to find that Snape was already there. The hook nosed man sneered at him as he entered, but Minerva did not seem to notice.

"Remus, perfect timing! I have things to discuss with you as well. Please, take a seat."

Sitting in the chair next to Snape, Lupin did his best to ignore the boring, beady eyes, trying to pay attention to Mcgonagall instead.

"Minerva," he began, "there's something I found out, about those agents. Not to mention the highly unpleasant interview I was subject to yesterday, but that's a secondary concern right now."

"Go on," Mcgonagall prompted. "I've had my suspicions as well. They are highly impolite and I don't approve of their plans to interrogate students of this school."

Lupin cast a quick look at Snape, but it was clear that he was going to remain here for this. He began to explain about the painting and small, scuttling bugs. He left out the fact that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had found this out, not wanting to get them in trouble.

"That," said Professor Mcgonagall. "Is very troubling. When I send the update to Dumbledore I will be sure to include it, ask for a course of action. Until then," she cast a look at the painting of the Gryffindor crest that hung on the wall of her office, "we all must be cautious of what we say and where we say it."

"As troubling as this is," said Snape, in a voice that evoked automatic annoyance in Lupin. "This Ministry trick very well might help catch Sirius Black. If he comes into the castle again these informants will surely track his movements."

Lupin focused very hard on keeping a blank expression.

"Good to look on the bright side," said Mcgonagall. "But onto why I wished to speak with you both. Albus trusts you and would like to keep you apprised as to the situation. He left because he caught word of the Census that Remus has already had personal experience with. His pretence is arguing the case for removal of dementors around the school. Fudge won't come down to the castle himself so he's going to him. Now, I'd like to read you a section from his last letter."

Unrolling a piece of parchment in front of her Mcgonagall began. "My worst suspicions have been confirmed, Minerva." Her voice shook slightly as she read. "I sensed it as soon as I arrived here. Something dark has settled over the Ministry, though I still have no idea as to its source. It is in the very air. I fear the worst. I will try to apparate back to visit as often as possible, but as of now I have still been unable to speak with Fudge. This may take longer than expected."

Mcgonagall stopped there, sombrely rolling up the scroll. "So, there you have it. I feel that, considering the circumstances, it would be a good idea to keep a close eye on these agents. If either of you see them doing anything else suspicious come directly to me. In the mean time," she cast another look at the one painting in her office. "I think I'll be removing that."

Very aware that his movements were being watched from the portraits Lupin did not return to his office. He'd actually spotted one of the beetles, sitting on the back of a painted stallion who did not seem to notice its presence. Instead he went straight to bed knowing that in three nights time he would not have such a luxury as a good night's sleep.


	5. Chapter 5: A Tear Not In Cloth

Lupin was awoken when his bedroom door banged open to reveal a trembling Professor Flitwick. The small man held his wand aloft, tip a blazing blue.

"Remus, wake up. All staff on deck! Sirius Black has been spotted in the castle, again."

With a tight feeling in his chest Lupin grabbed his robe, throwing it on over his pyjamas. Then, by a stroke of luck, he remembered the map and shoved it into an inner pocket. Wand in hand he followed Flitwick down the corridor.

Sirius had been spotted in the dungeons. He'd broken down Snape's bedroom door. Snape himself was more angry than Lupin had ever seen him, and that was saying something. He seethed, teeth actually bared, wand hand shaking.

"I wish he'd tried," he said, in a low voice. "He trashed my quarters but I didn't see him until he was running away. The coward. That filth couldn't even finish the job he came in here to start. If I find him... the dementors might not even get their snack."

"Be careful who hears you say that," warned Lupin, fully because he knew it would irritate him, but Snape was far too focused on Sirius to pay him any attention.

Students were being kept in their dorms and the staff, organized by Mcgonagall, searched the castle and the grounds. Lupin volunteered to go outside into the foggy night, in the area near the whomping willow. He knew it was Sirius's must likely escape route as dementors were swarming the forest. Finally alone he took out the map. Though it wasn't raining water droplets condensed on the parchment from the soup-like air. It was nearly impossible to see once one was outside, all the better for Sirius's escape. Lupin spotted his name by the Quidditch pitch, making his way towards him. Only Mcgonagall had gone outside aside from him, and she was far on the other side of the castle. But dementors did not appear on the map. Sirius wasn't home free yet.

Lupin could not see the whomping willow despite the fact that he knew he must be close. All the same he moved towards it, knowing that if he was going to have a last word with Sirius this was the time.

Then, the sky exploded with light. For a moment Lupin thought it was the full moon and he froze, sheer terror overtaking him. But of course it wasn't. The timing wasn't right. The massive silver orb was the largest lumos-maxima he had ever seen. The wizard who had cast it stood high upon the nearest tower, a black silhouette barely visible. In theory there should have been no way to identify who it was, but Lupin knew instantly. Dumbledore. His spell penetrated the fog and suddenly Lupin was much more concerned about Sirius's escape, but also relieved because he would finally have a chance to talk to the man. He'd show him the map, and Pettigrew, and beg if he had to. Dumbledore had been in the Order with both he and Sirius, and he was the wisest man Lupin had ever known. He would see the truth when it was presented to him.

From the direction of the castle the black dog crawled, belly scraping the wet grass. He was much too exposed, light glinting off his fur. A quick flick of his wand and a muttered word and a shadow fell spontaneously over Sirius, stretching all the way to the foot of the whomping willow. He had been subtle, Lupin hoped, and Dumbledore was much too high up to have noticed.

"You bloody idiot," Lupin hissed, as the dog raised its head to stare at him. "What in Merlin's name were you thinking?" Of course there was no answer. "Tomorrow night," he finally said, grudgingly. "The Shrieking Shack, after lights-out."

The dog seemed to nod than darted under the swinging branches of the tree, and without even hitting the knot, down the passage. Lupin heaved a sigh of relief. Pretending to sweep the edge of the forest, he eventually circled back to the castle to find a thoroughly soggy and disgruntled staff. It didn't help that the dementors had all converged at the front gates, making a cold, black wall. He had to split them with a patronice just to get inside.

"What are they doing?" Mcgonagall asked him, sounding almost afraid, but hiding it very well behind her stern expression. "Shouldn't they be out searching the grounds for Black?"

"They're getting hungry," said Lupin. "Away from Azkaban they have no one to feed on."

Mcgonagall shuttered. "I'm starting to agree that protection from Black may not be worth their presence here."

Though the staff was congregating in the great hall, Lupin slipped away after Mcgonagall admitted that Dumbledore would not be joining them for a debrief. His feet pounded against the echoing stones as he ran through the stairwells. A breathless password and the gargoyle that disguised the headmaster's office slid open. He ran up the moving stairs as well, but when he pounded on the door there was no answer. It was locked and he heard no sound from within. Was it possible? Had Dumbledore left again so quickly? After another ten minutes of knocking he realized the answer was yes.

A little bit angry Lupin trudged back down the moving stairs. He was angry at Dumbledore for leaving Hogwarts, even though it had been only a day. He was angry at Sirius for being so stupid, and he was angry at himself for being useless. So absorbed was he in his own head, that a misty voice almost caused him to jump out of his skin.

Sybill Trelawney stood very close, so close that he was astounded he hadn't noticed her when he'd stepped from the spiral staircase. She made him slightly uncomfortable. They had never had a full conversation, as she was always shut up in her tower, never coming to the staff room. Her large, bulging eyes didn't seem to blink enough.

"You missed him too, it seems," she said, in a quiet voice.

"Yeah," Lupin said, at a loss for anything else to say. He also took a step back so that they could converse while he maintained his personal space.

"I've seen something!" Her hands quivered where they held her shawl in place. "Something dark. I was on my way to tell the headmaster, but I have a feeling... I see that it may have been you I was meant to tell."

Lupin was very tired and a little bit damp, but he did not dismiss Trelawney outright. "What did you see?" he asked, trying to sound as gentle as possible.

He couldn't help it. She was like a small rabbit, as if a shock would give her a heart attack.

"A tear," she said, eyes vacant, looking in his direction but not at him. "A rip, like this."

She touched a hole in his robes he had been neglecting to patch.

"But not in cloth. It is a tear that should never have been made. Arching, grey stone. A cold fog. And...no!" She gasped, grabbing his arm with surprisingly strong fingers. "I'm so sorry. I see a great loss in your future."

Lupin pulled away a little more roughly this time, and the mad woman seemed to relax. Without waiting for a response from him she turned on her heals and left, beads jangling all the way down the corridor. A little shaken and so worried about Sirius he felt a little sick Lupin made his way to the great hall were Mcgonagall automatically told him to go to sleep. Walking past the mirror in his room he realized why. He looked paler than usual, the dark circles even more prominent. A thin sheen of sweat glittered on his brow.

Slipping into a fresh pair of pyjamas he fell into a uncomfortable sleep from which he woke multiple times, shivering. He thought no more of Trelawney's prophecy, knowing from gossip that she had a habit of predicting deaths that never came to pass. It hadn't made much sense anyways.

The next day the mood in the castle was even more bleak than it had been in the previous week. Many of the third year Gryffindors had questions about their project, so regular class started almost twenty minutes late. Harry didn't say a single word, something Lupin was very conscious of. He sat at his desk, clutching his head in his hands. This friends talked to him worriedly. It must be the scar, Lupin realized.

It seemed to pass as Harry perked up for the rest of his class, but as they got up to leave he let out an audible cry, falling to the floor and clutching his head again. Lupin rushed to his side, intending fully to take him to the hospital wing. But Harry was adamantly against it. He said it hurt all the time and that there was no need to fuss, so in the end it was just one more thing for Lupin to worry about.

That night, marauders map in hand, Lupin set off to meet Sirius. This proved easier said than done, with dementors stationed all over the grounds. If only their young selves had thought to make dementors visible on the map... To make things worse when he reached the whomping willow there was no branch long enough to reach the knot, and he was forced to knock one off the tree with his wand. In response it struck him across the face with a vine, obviously having greater reach than he'd originally thought. That would probably leave a mark.

"I thought we were old friends," he muttered, to the tree. "If it wasn't for me you wouldn't be here at all, you know?"

The tree, of course, did not respond, except when he hit the knot and it stopped moving.

Sirius was sitting on the fourposter bed in the upstairs bedroom. When Lupin entered he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Before you bite my head off," he said, "it's safer for both of us with me not hiding in your office. I have room to hide in the woods, to run. And if anyone were to find me there would be nothing to get you in trouble."

"I wasn't going to bite your head off," Lupin said, though his voice had come out like more of a growl than he had intended.

Sirius laughed.

"But going down to the dungeon," he continued. "That was reckless. You know Snape wouldn't hesitate to end you. You're lucky you got away."

All of a sudden Sirius was very grim. "You remember our talk, don't you Remus? You know what Pettigrew did to James and Lily and you know revenge comes first."

Lupin sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, unable to meet his dark eyes. He knew he would see only murder there and, even worse, that they would be a reflection of his own.

"I know."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes when Lupin produced the satchel he'd brought with him.

"Food, all non-perishables. For if you ever want to eat like a human."

"Thanks for the gesture." Sirius took the bag from him with a mischievous smirk. "But once you eat like a dog you never go back. Forbidden Forest cuisine is top notch. The squirrels... as big as your arm."

"I guess I'll just take it back then."

Lupin reached for the bag, but Sirius was quick, diving out of the way and throwing the bounty under the bed.

"Maybe next time bring some whisky, or at least some butter beer."

"Do you want me to turn you over?" Lupin was trying desperately to keep a straight face, but for the first time in a long while he felt like laughing.

"How about this," Sirius sat back down beside him. "We go to The Hogshead, me as Padfoot of course. You order something good, fire-whisky, not those sissy drinks you used to get. Then..." He mimed the actions as he said them. "You pour some into a bowl for me on the floor. It's certainty not the strangest thing that place has seen. No one will bat an eye."

Lupin, who felt unfoundedly happy after his profoundly unhappy day, and was therefor being less cautious than usual, said, "alright. After the full moon. I usually take a day or two off to recover, and I'll come down to see you."

Sirius flopped backwards across the dusty and moth-eaten sheets. "Merlin, I am happy to be out of that place. It never really hit me until now. Once we get Pettigrew I might have a life. What will I do?"

"Uh-"

Lupin didn't even have time to answer for Sirius had sat back up, and was suddenly a bit more serious, though still happy. "When is the full moon, Remus? I always used to keep track of these things."

"Not next night but the night after," he answered. "That reminds me, I'll have to go to Snape tomorrow for the Wolfsbane potion." He shuttered.

"The git, I should have killed him when I was in his room last night. It would have done the world a favour."

"Then who would I get my potion from?"

"An excellent point, but I really think it's a trade off. I'm around now to help keep you in line, Mooney. More seriously," he said, pulling his legs up on the bed so he was facing Lupin. "Don't come back to see me until after the full moon. I know they must be watching you, and sneaking in and out of the castle like this... As much as I'd be glad for the company I don't want you landing back in Azkaban with me."

Lupin nodded. It was good to hear that Sirius had not lost all his common sense over the twelve year incarceration.

"Yeah," Lupin said, with excitement. "Then we'll go down to The Hogshead, just like old times. Oh..." Nostalgia washed over him like a wave. "Do you remember? I think we were fifteen when we first got them to sell us drinks. Why so few of the other students tried it I have no idea."

"Probably because the place smells more like a hog's ass," Sirius said in his gravely voice. "And I do remember. It worked great until we brought Peter that time. He boy had a baby face if I ever saw one..."

Lupin braced himself for another murderous rant, and for his friend to fade back into that skeletal man with the cold eyes, but it did not happen. They talked for a while longer when finally Lupin decided he should leave. They embraced, parting with promises to carry out their ludicrous and all together reckless plan the day after the full moon.

Despite the fact that he got back with very little time to sleep, Lupin woke up feeling much more rested than the night before. It was with a positive attitude that he made it through all his classes. The worry that pursued him, threatening to overthrow his good mood was the thought of the paintings. The chances that one of the bugs had seen him last night was very high, and his only hope was that they would not consider it worthy of report.

Lupin's mood soured almost instantly as he descended the stone stairs to the dungeon before dinner that night. The air always smelled a bit damp down here, like mildew. The Slytherin common room, of course, was a completely different story. It was enchanted to emulate the luxurious life the many spoiled pureblooks who made up the house were used to. Unfortunately, Snape's office was not included in this. Weird creatures floated in jars, stone walls more like a cell than an office. Lupin had no idea how anyone could stand to work here.

Snape looked up sharply as he entered. "It is polite," he said, in a slow, drawling voice, "to knock before entering."

"I'm sorry," said Lupin, trying to keep sarcasm at an acceptable level. "Do you want me to go back out?"

He turned around as if to leave, but Snape beckoned him to his desk with a barely disguised eye role.

"Where is it?" Lupin asked, looking around and not seeing one of the steaming goblets in which Snape normally delivered his potion.

The potions master indicated that he should sit, and he did, uncomfortably aware that he sat where a student would.

"There's been... a slight problem," admitted the greasy man. "I was tending to the caldron of potion in my quarters. When Black ransacked my things it spilled. I've had to start again."

Suddenly Lupin was very afraid. Did this mean what it sounded like? Was he going to have to get through a transformation without the potion? It had been months and he did not wish to endanger the students. He'd have to go to the shrieking shack, do things the old fashioned way.

"Oh, don't look so pale," snapped Snape. "I can accelerate the normal process. I'll have it ready before tomorrow night. You'll only be able to take one dose before the change, but it should still let you hold onto significant control.

Lupin was overcome with relief, and quite genuinely he said, "thank you, Severus."

Snape nodded, not meeting Lupin's eyes. "Go to the shrieking shack anyways, just to be safe. We don't know how much control you'll have."

"I was planning on it." There was a silence. This was Lupin's chance. If there was any hope in freeing Sirius he had to find Peter. "The other night," he began, "you confiscated the rat of Mr. Weasly. May I ask where it is?"

For a long time Snape did not answer, not meeting his eyes. He stared at a two headed pig floating in a jar on his bookshelf as if it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

"I don't plan on returning it against your wishes," said Lupin. "I just want to take a look at it."

The silence stretched on even further.

"I have..." It appeared that Snape was having a lot of trouble forcing the words past his lips. "Misplaced it. It escaped from its cage the day before last."

Some of Lupin's horror must have shown on his face, for Snape shot him a strange look. "If you feel that you must tell the Weasly boy," he practically spat. "I will be happy to purchase the boy a new pet."

"No..." Lupin had to focus very hard to stop his voice from shaking. "No, I don't think that will be necessary." Then, getting to his feet, he said, "thanks again, Severus. I'll come down tomorrow, same time, to see if the potion is finished."

He had to get to the map, see if Pettigrew was still in the castle. A part of him knew it was futile, and the more he thought the angrier he became at Peter. Since finding out he had been Lily and James's secret keeper Lupin had been preoccupied with soothing Sirius's anger, but at that moment he found his own. It exploded from somewhere inside him, hot and blinding so that he paid no attention to his surroundings as he stormed back to this room. The coward. The filthy coward. They'd been his friend, protected him for years. James's face was all he could see then, so much like Harry's, and he felt that if the rat were to scurry out in front of him now he would crush it in his fist.

A rational part of his brain begged him to calm down, to take a deep breath and think about clearing Sirius's name, but only one fantasy made Lupin truly happy in that moment. He and Sirius stood side by side, wands out. A cowering Pettigrew, just as he'd been last time he'd seen him, stood before them. He was begging, snivelling like the pathetic excuse for the man that he was. Then, together, they took revenge for their friends.

Lupin was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he did not see the Ministry agents waiting for him until he was almost stepping on their toes. Trying to get his anger under control, Lupin squeezed his hands into fists in the pockets of his cloak.

"Remus Lupin," said the witch in front of him.

There were five of them this time, both Scar and Blondy among them.

"Yes."

"We have some questions for you. Please come with us."


	6. Chapter 6: Black Eyes

"Explain what you were doing outside the castle last night," came the expected question.

Adrenaline had been racing through Lupin's body since they'd confronted him in the hallway, and now that they were sitting back in his office his brain was working in overdrive, trying to fit the last few pieces of his story into place. He could get out of this. They had no proof of anything.

The man who questioned him was undoubtedly the leader. He had a hard face: high cheek bones and cold blue eyes. His wand, which he held conspicuously by his side was smooth and black, more like metal or plastic than any Lupin had ever seen. The rest of the agents stood behind him, offering only their silent presence. Like guards, he thought. They stood behind his desk as if it was not his space they were invading.

"Well..." he began, putting on his best indignant voice. "Since you have access to my information from that census of yours, I'll give you three guesses."

The man leaned on the table, wand still in his hand. The sleek stick pressed against the old wood, tip in his direction. It was so casual it could have been by accident, except for the look in his eyes.

"Maybe you don't fully understand your position, Mr. Lupin. We have a fugitive who has been able to enter this highly guarded school multiple times without our notice. Suspicions of an inside man are very popular. So I ask you again, what were you doing outside the castle last night?"

"I used to go here as a student," Lupin began, still feeling in control. If he let that go the intimidation tactics would start working and he'd be done fore. "I was bitten very early in my life, as you probably know already, of course. Dumbledore made arrangements so that I could attend the school... safely. I couldn't go attacking other students, it was dangerous to keep me here during the transformations. So they built a shack, a place for me to transform away from others. It's still there, still serving its purpose even though I am a staff member. The full moon is the night after this one. I left to make preparations."

A good excuse. How could they disprove it, only having eyes in the castle? The anger in the lead agents eyes was unmistakeable, but there was nothing he could do. They'd be watching him now, though. Lupin knew this as the interrogation dragged on for almost another twenty minutes. He stuck to his story, when one of the other agents finally spoke.

"Come on, Ginus." He patted the lead man on the arm. "We'll get nothing more out of this..." he trailed off. "At this point he is guilty of nothing more than being a half-breed. Makes me glad for the census project, seeing him so close to students, but that doesn't mean he's involved with Black."

"We have information," Ginus replied, turning angrily to the man, "that they were friends at school."

At this Lupin turned his eyes down.

"All the same," the agent pushed, "I think we're done for today."

"We'll be checking in" warned Scar. He was the last one to leave, closing the door behind him with a bang.

Lupin sat for ten minutes just basking in the relief of it. That had been close. Maybe going out to drinks with Sirius was a worse idea than it had originally seemed. They walked a thin edge, and pushing their luck seemed wrong.

Suddenly he remembered what Snape had told him. Panic taking hold, he opened the marauders map, searching desperately for the name. Peter Pettigrew. It had to be there. It had to, but it wasn't. He sat there scanning it for more than half an hour, but the rat was nowhere in the castle. He felt like screaming, breaking something. Sirius had been counting on him and he'd let him down.

It was too late for him to go to dinner that night, and he went to bed hungry. As the full moon approached he began to feel sick, irrational. That could explain the burning anger that had overcame him the previous day. To trust his thoughts now would be a mistake, he tried to tell himself. He had to stick to the rational. Killing Pettigrew for revenge seemed the right course of action in the moment, but from a clearer frame of mind he knew he would probably feel different. As anger surged over him again at the thought of it, he decided it would be best to just not think about it. But frustration burned even when the murderous anger had subsided.

He didn't have classes the next day, so Lupin slept in. He hated that Snape was teaching his class, but the fact that the students unarguably liked him more brought on a bit of satisfaction.

He sat on the edge of his bed for what felt like an hour, too sick to his stomach to feel like breakfast. In the back of his mind Lupin was aware he hadn't eaten supper the night before either, but it was all he could do to fetch a cup of water and sit back on his bed. There were a lot of books to read, and lessons to plan. He knew that he had some homework to grade, but an uncomfortable twinge in his skull which appeared whenever he thought about it prevented him from getting a start.

Around lunch he was feeling almost normal, and a house elf brought him a tray of food, probably on Mcgonagall's orders. He'd just finished the delicious stew when there came a tentative rapping on his door.

"Come in."

Lupin was sitting on his bed, papers strewn across the blankets. A book lay open on his lap and he didn't feel much like getting up.

The door swung open to reveal Hagrid's hulking form. He had to bend down a bit so that his face was visible in the frame. Though his features were hidden behind a thick beard, Lupin could tell that he was worried.

"How are you feeling?" Hagrid asked, in a gruff voice.

"Oh, you know," Lupin his hand dismissively, "well enough."

"Err, well, you see... There's a sort of situation, down in Hogsmeade. Minerva would never have dreamed of asking for your help today if she thought she could handle it herself. And you are the defence against the dark arts professor."

Lupin was already on his feet, his mind working a mile a minute.

"So?" Hagrid asked. "Do you think you're up to coming?"

"Don't be ridiculous, of course I'm coming." Lupin was already searching his room for clean clothes. "Now wait one moment outside while I change."

He had no clean shirts or underwear, but a quick charm fixed that. He kept most of his belongings in his trunk, never having properly unpacked despite being in the room for months. It was an old habit, a lingering feeling that he could never get attached to one place.

Throwing on the robes he'd worn yesterday—the ones with the least holes—he joined Hagrid outside in the corridor. He had a dull headache, a kind of throbbing ache behind his temples which could be ignored but which never really left. He'd have to power through. Whatever the situation was, it had to be serious. Hopefully, not Sirius.

"What's going on?" Lupin asked, struggling to catch up with Hagrid who had already set off.

His massive strides resulted in a pace which was more of a jog for Lupin.

"I'll err..." Hagrid cast a quick look at the students that swarmed around them. "...tell you on the walk. If only Dumbledore was here," his tone was wistful, "he'd know what to do."

It was a warm day, surprisingly so for the time of year. Dry leaves blew across the ground but the sun beat down pleasantly. Lupin almost tripped over his own feet taking in the scenery and cursed himself. Hagrid hadn't seen, thankfully, but if he was going to be any use he had to hold himself together.

"Professor Mcgonagall and Professor Snape have already gone down," said Hagrid. "We haven't told many others. It's best not to spread panic, you know?"

Lupin nodded, but he was so winded keeping up with Hagrid's pace that he had trouble verbalizing. A jog was too much for him right now and he found himself slowing, the world spinning slightly.

"Wait..." he called, cursing the weakness of his own voice. "Can we just go a bit slower?"

Hagrid jumped as if he'd completely forgotten that Lupin had legs shorter than he. "Of course! Sorry."

And from that point forward the massive man took special care to match Lupin's pace. He also explained. "Never seen anything like it, I haven't. It's this witch, Oaka Reverton I think her name is. She's been, uh..." Hagrid looked around as if he was afraid someone was listening, but they were the only ones on the path into the village. "...possessed," he finished, in a hushed voice.

Lupin did not respond at first. He was thinking slower than normal today and he wasn't fully sure what Hagrid had meant by this. Possessed to do what? By what?

"Like in the muggle sense of the word," Hagrid pushed on, obviously realizing that the big reveal required clarification. "Black eyes, thrashing around, saying such awful things. No one has seen anything like it. Only heard... stories..."

"A common myth in both the muggle and wizarding worlds," Lupin finished his thought for him. "But daemons were eradicated completely over a hundred years ago. What do Mcgonagall and Snape think it is? Curse? Jinx? A cursed object of some kind?"

Hagrid shrugged his massive shoulders. "No bloody clue. They both have some theories, but without Dumbledore here they need your opinion."

Daemons were a type of spirit, though not the kind Lupin would be covering in his third year class. They were more history anyways, as the last sighting had been over a century ago. Wizards had wiped them out, and for good reason too. They had been creatures of chaos, an ancient evil. He shivered just thinking about it, but he knew that a daemon could not be responsible. Even long before their total extinction they hadn't been in England. They'd existed mostly in the Middle-East, if his information was correct.

But what if? He was going to teach a brief unit on daemons to his seventh years, and he remembered a book he'd read on them in his youth, purely out of morbid curiosity. But that didn't even matter because this surely had some other cause: a cursed object or obscure potion.

With the town so close Hagrid seemed to have forgotten to check his pace, and Lupin had been forced into taking rather large steps. Suddenly a chill descended upon them and Hagrid stopped so that Lupin almost bumped into him.

A pair of dementors floated out of the woods onto the trail. Not today. Please, not today. Lupin's world began to shake. He felt the anger, the hunger, as if night was upon him already. But he still had work to do. Hand shaking he grasped his wand, but he trembled so much he couldn't aim. Hagrid was holding him up, shouting angrily at the dementors, obviously trying to shoo them off. They came no closer but did not leave either, as if they were challenging him to do something about it. Hagrid surely could not, and at the moment Lupin could find not one happy thought. Though had this not been the happiest time of the month for him, back in the day? There it was, his good memory.

"Expecto Patronum."

His wolf erupted from the end of his wand with his thought of the marauders and the adventures they'd had together. The dementors quickly retreated back towards the castle, but the patrons did not vanish as it should have. Instead it returned to Hagrid and Lupin, beginning to circle them. It bristled, circling, not disappearing though he was currently putting no effort into maintaining its form.

"It's acting like there are still dementors around," said Lupin. "It's still trying to shield us from something.

Raising his wand, he dispelled the white wolf, but it was with an even greater sense of dread that he followed Hagrid into the village.

Oaka Reverton lived in a rented apartment just down the street from the Hogshead. To reach the stairs up they had to walk down an alley. A pile of garbage bags had toppled over so that they had to step over them. The air, which usually smelled so pleasant in Hogsmeade, stunk of rot. Oaka's room was on the third floor of the divided house. The fire escape stairs looked rather rusty in places, and Lupin couldn't help but worry that it might collapse under Hagrid's weight.

They made it to the top landing without incident, and Hagrid knocked heavily on the door, which was covered in peeling green paint. Lupin let himself lean on the banister. His lids slid shut and for just a moment he focused on his breath. Sometimes the full moon was visible in the day time sky. He thankfully had not seen it yet today, for thought it did not result in a physical transformation it lead to almost unbearable pain and violent outbursts.

The door swung open to reveal Snape. He hurried quickly inside, Hagrid following him. Lupin tried to follow as well but had to hold himself up on the door frame for a wave of vertigo had overtaken him. He was very aware that Snape and Mcgonagall were both watching him.

Gritting his teeth and stepping inside, Lupin asked Snape, "you wouldn't happen to have any of that wolfsbane potion on you?"

The man slowly shook his head. "Regrettably, it is not yet done."

"And your presence here is much appreciated," Mcgonagall quickly chimed in.

"Where is she?" Lupin began to ask, but stopped half way at the sound of crying.

On the couch, not to far from the door, sat a grey haired which in a bright pink jacket. She sobbed into her hands, not even looking up to see who had arrived.

"Is that-?"

Mcgonagall cut him off. "No. That's Teresa Puddifoot. She owns the tea shop. She's a friend of Oaka's. She contacted us this morning."

At this the tearful woman looked up, sniffing loudly. "It's awful, Merlin, it's awful. She called me fat, and old. She said she was only my friend because she likes free meals when she's in town." Large tears were rolling down the woman's wrinkled cheeks. "Then when I tried to ask her what was wrong she attacked me, started speaking some language I didn't understand."

Pain shot through Lupin's head, much sharper than the dull headache he'd grown almost accustom to. "Where is she?" he practically grunted.

In the small apartment the kitchen, living room and entrance all shared a room, and through the single door was the bedroom. A woman lay on a mattress that had been stripped of blankets, her wrists bound to the posts with belts. Mcgonagall had removed her wand and Lupin did the same. As they entered the woman who had once been Oaka sat as upright as she could, straining forwards toward them.

She was older than Lupin, middle aged with sleek black hair, nowhere near as old as Madam Puddifoot. Though all Lupin saw when he looked at her were the eyes. They were black, all pupil. Her lip was curled, teeth bloody from where she'd bitten the insides of her own mouth. For a few moments no one spoke, then Oaka snarled.

"When I get free I'll feed you your own entrails!"

"Stupefy!" Lupin cast the spell.

Though the woman was thrown backwards against the bed she was not paralysed, sitting back up and muttering angrily in some incomprehensible, garbled language.

Twenty minutes later Lupin was no closer to determining what spell had caused this horror. They had torn the apartment apart looking for any cursed object but had come up empty. Hagrid sat awkwardly on the couch, comforting Madam Puddifoot who had stubbornly refused to leave. The only thing they'd accomplished was Lupin adding his own strengthening spells to Oaka's bindings, on top of Mcgonagall's and Snape's.

"Have you considered..." asked Snape, slowly, "that this may actually be a daemon?"

They stood in the bedroom doorway, going over ideas. Lupin had in fact been doing exactly that.

"Smart man!" called the mocking female voice from the next room. "Clever, clever man." They approached the bed as Oaka continued to address Snape. "Clever man, free me now and I can guarantee you a painless death."

Snape raised one thick, black eyebrow but did not respond.

They had been deluding themselves for too long, Lupin realized. This black eyed creature which inhabited Oaka Reverton's body was, it would seem, a daemon.


	7. Chapter 7: Moonrise

In the living room of the small apartment, no one had made a sound for over ten minutes. The only noise came through the closed bedroom door: screams of pain which caused Madam Puddifoot to flinch, and long strings of a language so unfamiliar that Lupin didn't think it was a language. At least not one known to man.

"So," Snape addressed him, halting his train of thought. "Any idea of what we should do?"

They'd been waiting for him, letting him think.

Before he could say anything however, Mcgonagall spoke. "I think it's best we call in the Ministry. This is the sort of thing they should be made aware of. Sadly, by the time they arrive I worry for the state of Miss Reverton. Professor Lupin, do you think...?"

Lupin nodded. "They are no longer taught, but there are many ways of dealing with daemons. Most are lost knowledge, but in the middle ages they were such a problem even muggles were made aware of them."

"What do you mean?" asked Hagrid, curiously.

"Never before or after has there been such a problematic magical entity, if my history serves." Lupin looked at Mcgonagall, who nodded. "Wizards had to teach muggles certain ways of defending themselves. Some of them even made their way into religion."

"I never knew," said Hagrid, "bloody interesting history is."

"Sixth year history of magic," said Snape, rather rudely.

Lupin chose not to respond. "The spells required for casting out a daemon from a host are all long, almost impossible to memorize. We need to find a book that contains one."

"You mean you're going to do an exorcism?" asked Madam Puddifoot, speaking for the first time since right after Lupin's arrival.

Lupin smiled. "Yes, though that's the muggle name for it. Many wizards made their livings as exorcists in the dark ages, because though muggles could say the worlds for the spell they don't have the power to cast it."

"We'll have to get the book from the castle," Mcgonagall cut the history lesson short. "Whoever goes will have to get in touch with the ministry as well."

Lupin swore, looking out the window. He did not like that time frame.

"Not at all," said Madam Puddifoot. "I know where you'll could find a book like that, here in the village."

All waited, expectantly.

"There's a dingy little book shop, out of the way. Not many of the students go to it. I like the owner, he's a nice enough man. That's why I hope it won't get him in trouble when I say..." she stopped as if she had changed her mind. Mcgonagall lay a comforting hand on her shoulder and she continued. "That he has quite a bit of literature on dark magic. But a lot of historic stuff too, all old books. I'm almost positive he'll have what you're looking for."

"Fantastic!" Lupin felt like hugging her. "Someone go with her and get it, and I'll begin the spell. There are preparation stages." Everyone was still looking at him. So it would appear he was in charge. "How about this," he began, "Severus, you'll go back to the castle. You'll get in touch with the Ministry, and hopefully Dumbledore, while keeping it as quiet as possible."

Snape huffed as if insulted by the notion that he would not. "You are the defence against the dark arts professor," he drawled, "and I will of course follow your orders. But may I say that I feel I would be of more use here. Send Hagrid up to the castle."

Lupin shook his head. "With the half-breed prejudges these agents have? Think these things through, Severus." He was not in the state of mind, today, to feign politeness. "And I hadn't finished. When you return, it would be be much appreciated if you were to bring back some of that potion you've been making for me." He was very aware of Madam Puddifoot's presence in the room. "I do plan to get this done as quickly as possible, but I feel it may be evening by the time we are finished."

"He's right," said Mcgonagall, "it has to be you."

Snape curled his upper lip but stayed silent.

"Thank you, Minerva. I'll need you to go with Madame Puddifoot to find the spell book. Hagrid will stay with me." He turned to the man in question. "I may need your help in holding her down."

"Will that be all?" Snape asked, not at all sincere.

"Yes. All of you hurry back. I'll get started."

Lupin was surprised by how well he'd managed the situation, though his heart was beating hard in his chest and I felt even more lightheaded than he had that morning. Necessity was what kept in going. He couldn't let his illness win now, not when there was the greatest need for him.

Hagrid watched as Lupin began searching through the already ransacked kitchen for a caldron.

"Are you alright?" asked Hagrid. "You look rather pale."

"Fine, I'm fine."

Lupin struggled to lift the old, bronze caldron he'd managed to locate.

"Do you need some help?" Hagrid hovered awkwardly a few meters back, hands outstretched as if he was unsure what to do.

Lupin handed it to him. "Go to the bathroom. Fill it with water."

Grabbing a ladle and removing his wand, Lupin reentered the bedroom.

He had trouble believing that the woman in front of him had ever been human. Maybe it was the eyes, or the gruesome smile, but just looking at her sent a chill up his spine. Oaka's hair was matted, her arms bent unnaturally backwards where they'd been bound. Lupin was unsure what was in store for the woman, even if he succeeded in his endeavour, but he felt that it wasn't going to be pleasant. He pitied her, having something like that inside her head.

"Careful moon monster," it warned him. "Soon you will be on my side."

The room stunk of rotting eggs, a smell that radiated from the daemon itself. Lupin looked away, refusing to acknowledge it had spoken. He busied himself by sticking the ladle into the waist band of his pants. Then it struck him that maybe there was something to be learned by speaking to the creature.

"I thought your kind was extinct," said Lupin.

"The arrogance of wizards," it hissed back. "We were here long before your ancestors evolved from the apes, and we will be here long after you have destroyed yourselves."

"But you were almost gone," he pushed, "for a long time. Why now?"

The daemon grinned, black eyes glinting in the light from the window. "Wouldn't you like to know? But let me tell you this. Soon this sickeningly bright world will return to the darkness where it belongs. I swear this to you."

Just then the door banged open and Hagrid set the full caldron at the foot of the bed. Some water sloshed out onto the floor, pooling in the cracks between the wooden boards.

"What are you going to do with it?" Hagrid asked.

"I'm going to purify it. Pure water is part of the spell. I hope I'm not forgetting some piece, but it stuck in my mind fairly well due to its connection to muggle mythology."

Lupin pointed his wand at the caldron and whispered a few words. A simple purifying spell.

"This ritual is where the Christians first got the idea for holy water," explained Lupin, though he knew Hagrid probably did not have enough background information to appreciate it. "I created what is effectively just distilled water, but over the years something was lost in translation. Pure water got understood as blessed water. Pure to blessed. I can see why, I guess, seeing as how they probably watched witches and wizards perform magic."

Lupin dipped the ladle into the liquid, flinging it onto the now struggling woman. Nothing happened physically, but the daemon was obviously agitated, screaming threats in between tirades of the unknown language. Lupin took another scoop, pouring it directly onto her forehead. She spat and sputtered as it dripped into her mouth.

"What about those crosses then?" asked Hagrid. "do we need one of those for this spell?"

Lupin was so shocked he momentarily paused on his way for another scoop of water.

Hagrid looked a little sheepish. "What? I've seen The Exorcist."

Lupin laughed. "I'd never have thought."

"Well, I'm no pure blood snob. I know good entertainment when I see it. It was a good movie, really gave me the creeps. Keep expecting her head to start spinning in circles," he gestured to the woman tied to the bed.

"Well, since you asked... The crosses were already a symbol of their religion. Wizards had the ability to enchant objects so that muggles could protect themselves when they weren't around. The cross was the natural choice, something that would make sense to them, in Europe at least. I don't know the spell to enchant an object to repel daemons, so we'll just have to make do without."

Lupin took the next ladle full of water, continuing on with the process. By the time Mcgonagall returned with the book Oaka would be thoroughly sodden. This was the state required for the host, if the expulsion spell was to work. It probably would not take the whole caldron, but they had the time. It was better to be safe than sorry. Though it still mumbled to itself, the daemon became less and less violent with time. It even lay back on the bed, staring angrily at them with its chilling black eyes.

They returned sooner than Lupin had thought, throwing open the door without knocking and flying into the bedroom.

Mcgonagall shoved a black, leather-bound book into his hands. "The shop keeper knew exactly what we were looking for. There are many different spells in the book, but he folded the page he thought you'd use."

"Purification through water," Lupin read aloud. "Perfect. He sounds like a clever man."

Madam Puddifoot had been left outside, so it was only the three of them facing this creature. Lupin knew this was all on him, and if he'd made some mistake... He didn't want to think about it.

"Hagrid, get ready to grab her," Lupin instructed. "Minerva, when she starts struggling really bad I want you to throw more water onto her." He handed her the ladle.

The spell was in Latin, more than two pages in length. Pointing his wand at Oaka's body, he began to read. The reaction was almost instantaneous. She let out a scream so loud, so inhuman, that Lupin began to worry that the neighbours would come up to investigate. Her chest arched forward, her arms bent backwards in a way that was certainly not healthy. They seemed to have popped clean out of the shoulder sockets.

It was horrible to look at, but Lupin kept reading. Mcgonagall threw a spoon of water onto the writhing body. This time it sizzled, smoking as it made contact with the skin. Still making a sound like an injured cat, the creature curled Oaka's legs under her, in a feat of inhuman flexibility. Her ankles were by her wrists, and it was as if she was trying to kneel on the bed. Spines were not supposed to bend like that.

Lupin was about to yell for Hagrid, but the man was one step ahead of him. He grabbed Oaka by the ankles, pulling her back out straight. He held her in place though she thrashed side to side, trying to kick free. Mcgonagall had taken another scoop of water, and Lupin was at the bottom of the first page. His wand was hot in his hand. He had never cast a spell this long before. There was no technique to it, really, aside for its sheer length. It was a vestige of a different age of magic, interesting if the situation had not been so dire.

The wooden bed frame cracked ominously. Hagrid stumbled back, letting out a great yell as if Oaka's skin had burned him. Lupin tried not to notice what was going on around him. Read. He just had to read. Mcgonagall was trying to cast a spell to strengthen the wood, but she was not fast enough. It splintered and one of the daemon's arms was free, belt still tight around her wrist.

Hagrid dove on top of her, trying to pin her to the bed.

Oaka spoke, but no longer in her voice. It was deep, broken as if it came from malfunctioning electronics. "You will pay for this. A vengeance like you have never seen will be released upon you all if you continue."

Lupin straightened his elbow, thrusting his wand forward like a spear. He pointed directly at Oaka's forehead.

The creature let out a scream unlike any before it. The window behind Lupin shattered, then the lantern on the ceiling. Glass rained and he felt a shard pierce him in the back. The door blew off it's hinges, and Hagrid was thrown backwards through the air. He hit the floor rather hard, sliding for almost a meter. The air was charged with dark magic. Lupin had never felt anything like it before.

Though his voice shook he read on. The daemon knelt on the floor now, attached to the bed by only one arm. It seemed to struggle using its mangled arm, but it managed to release the buckle all the same.

"Petrificus Totalus," yelled Mcgonagall.

The daemon flew backwards into the wall, at the same moment Mcgonagall tossed another ladle full of water. The spell did not hold. Its skin smoked at contact with the liquid, but it was back on its feet after only a moments pause.

Lupin was nearing the end of the spell, voice increasing in volume, terrified that he'd made some mistake in pronunciation and that this would all be for nought.

In the living room, Madam Puddifoot screamed, watching the scene unfold, horror struck. Oaka Reverton took a step towards the now open door, but then with what was more of a growl than a scream, she fell to her knees. She was frozen, fingers curled at her sides. The black eyes bulged, her mouth open in a silent scream. Lupin was on the last line.

Light shot from the end of his wand, one quick burst. Then, like her shadow was detaching itself, a black creature pulled free of Oaka's body. The broken witch crumpled to the floor.

It was a formless creature, pitch black like it was a hole in space rather than a body. It was shaped vaguely like a dementor, but what looked like its cloak tapered to a point at the bottom. The stink of rotten eggs was almost overwhelming.

Now the spell was simple.

"Adinfernum!" Lupin yelled, but the creature was very fast.

It dodged the bolt of red light, shooting out into the living room.

"Adinfernum!" he tried again.

But the spell collided not with the daemon, but with Madam Puddifoot's chest. It had gone into her quicker than he'd been able to utter the words. He made a move to grab her, but she dove out of the way, smashing through the front door. The daemon was desperate. Who knew what it would do? Hagrid and Mcgonagall on his tail, Lupin ran after it. It had jumped the banister from the third floor and he followed it, a quick charm muttered to slow his fall.

He expected to land and take off running, but instead he found himself on his knees, balled fists pushed into the concrete. Shutters wracked his body, and he felt as if he might throw up.

"Go!" he screamed to Mcgonagall, who stood over him, a silhouette framed by the setting sun. "I'll get to the shrieking shack. I'll be okay!"

She looked as if she did not believe him, but the danger of a daemon loose in Hogsmeade was too much. Seconds later he was alone in the alley. There was still space between the sun and the horizon, and the moon must have been behind the cloud cover. He had time. He could make it. He only wished he'd had more time to finish the job.

He could aperate almost to the shack, but past the fence was part of Hogwarts grounds, at least in the sense that it was protected by the same magic. Sweat dripping down into his eyes, Lupin clambered over, landing hard on the ground on the other side. He stood up and there they were.

He had not seen them before his climb so they must have just arrived, yet it still looked like the dementors had been waiting for him. There were six of them, standing between him and his destination as if they knew exactly what they were doing. Lupin's wand hand shook, his fist clenched tight around it. They were moving towards him.

The full moon was in the sky now. He could feel it without looking because it screamed to him in a language others could not hear. The glowing ball of light that kept him in his human form had just touched the horizon, filtering to him through the trees.

"Expecto Patronum!"

He felt no joy, only the feral call of the moon. James, Sirius, Lily...

"Expecto Patronum!"

This time a thin stream of silver irrupted from his wand but it did little against the dementors as they circled him. Lupin's vision blurred. He felt something inside him stir, snarling, struggling for freedom. Once he was Mooney he would not have to worry about the dementors.

If he just made a run for the shack, blasted through the door. Being inside might buy him another minute. He thought of the joy he'd felt when he'd seen James again, in the face of his son. Harry...

"Expecto-"

The wand slid from his hand as Remus Lupin collapsed shaking to the ground. The last rays of setting sun began to fade.


	8. Chapter 8: The Duel

Every part of Lupin's body hurt. Too familiar was this situation. Old dread, old guilt overcame him as he struggled to remember something, anything, about the previous night. But of course he did not. By some miracle he was alive, in what looked like an empty shed. As was to be expected, he was naked, though now that he looked around he realized that there was a wool blanket tangled around one of his legs, as if someone had attempted to cover him.

It smelled of earth, and in the corner were piled bags of soil, some spilling out onto the wooden floor. The left side of Lupin's face burned. Slowly, stiffly he reached up to touch it, and dry blood crumbled off into his hand. A gash reached through his eyebrow, all the way past the side of his lip.

The door to the shed flew open and Lupin pulled the blanket up to his waist, tensing for, he wasn't sure what. Sirius flew through, slamming it behind him. There was a bit of blood matted into his dark hair, and he had a bruised lip.

His eyes landed on Lupin's face and he winced. "I got you pretty good."

"Oh..."

It felt as if a blast-ended skrewt was trapped inside his skull, trying to make more room for itself by destroying his brain. He didn't have the capacity to express his thoughts verbally, staring in mute gratitude up at his old friend.

"Are you alright, Remus?" he asked, crouching down and placing a hand on Lupin's shoulder.

Slowly, he nodded.

"Good, because we don't have much time." Sirius pulled his robe off so that he just wore a grey button up. "Take this. It's yours anyways."

Just a robe did not cover Lupin particularly well, but it was definitely a step up.

"I went back and got this for you." From his pants pocket Sirius removed Lupin's wand, extending it for him to take.

It had been years since he'd had this kind of support, and the fact that it came from someone in an even worse position that he... Lupin was overcome with gratitude, but also worry.

"Where you seen?"

"As anything other than Padfoot? No, not yet."

"Yet?" Lupin didn't get to finish the question.

"That's the plan. Ministry agents are sweeping the town for a werewolf, but instead they find an escaped prisoner. They'll forget all about you."

"No!"

Lupin tried to jump to his feet but instead it was more of a slow straightening up. What he intended to do he wasn't sure. Block the door to stop Sirius from leaving?

Sirius didn't seem to have heard him. He picked the blanket off the floor and wrapped it forcefully around Lupin's shoulders. "You can get back to the castle through Honeydukes. It was a full moon and we're right beside the forbidden forest. They have no evidence that it was you."

A new fear suddenly descended upon Lupin. "Did I...? Was anyone...?"

Sirius seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. "There were two close calls, but I kept you in line, Mooney. I always do."

Relief surged through him, but there was still the problem at hand. "Whatever you think you're going to do, you're not doing it. Padfoot is going to run back into the forest and I'm going to go out there and deal with my problems, resign if I have to."

Just saying the words made him feel sick. He'd been so happy these last few months.

"Don't be stupid!" Sirius turned away from him, pacing the length of the small building, and pushing his matted hair back off his face. "I was in that wardrobe when they made you fill out that census. I heard those question. And the team of wizards they have out there, looking for you... I think that if they catch you you'll have a lot more to worry about than just losing your job. They're out for half breeds, it's obvious. I thought that type of mentality died with Voldemort, but I have been unpleasantly surprised by the direction the Ministry has taken these last twelve years."

Was it really that bad? Lupin couldn't imagine it. Of course, werewolves were an easy target as far as half breeds went. "But Dumbledore..."

"Can protect you if there's no proof you were here."

"You can't-"

"Shut up for a second!" Sirius put a finger to his lips. "I hear them. We have to do this now." He reached for Lupin's wand, still clutched in his hand. "Give me that."

Lupin was still too groggy to have much of a reaction time, and it was easily snatched back from him.

Sirius touched the tip to his cheek. "Behovia keioto."

Lupin felt the skin of his face pull itself back together, tingling a little bit. "I'm not going to let you do this."

"Stay still," Sirius grunted, before touching him with the wand again.

He felt a familiar slimy cold, dripping down from where the wand had touched him. It indicated Sirius had cast a disillusionment charm. He held the wand out in front of him, waiting for a now invisible Lupin to take it.

"You'd never slip by them with that if they weren't going to be busy chasing after me," said Sirius. "Wait here until we're gone then get back to the castle as fast as you can, get in bed. When they ask you what happened pretend you spent the time in The Shrieking Shack."

Lupin realized he had acted too slowly. Sirius's reckless authority had pulled him so deep into a stupid plan that, just like when they were young, he realized there was no way out other than to follow through.

"Please..." whispered Lupin, as Sirius edged his way towards the door, obviously listening. "You can't leave me again. Nothing's been put right yet. Peter's still missing. No one knows what really happened."

"You do," said Sirius. "I know someone will keep Harry safe, even if they do get me. But..." He placed one hand on the door, plastering himself against the wall. "... you don't have to worry, because I'm going to be fine."

He threw Lupin a wink, then opened the door just a crack.

Wincing and mouthing, "shit," he slammed it closed again, flattening himself to the wall.

Seconds later, a wizard dressed like the agents from the castle, but whom Lupin had never seen before burst through. He scanned the empty shed, not immediately seeing Sirius, an inch to his left. He used this to his advantage, punching the agent straight in the face and grabbing the wand from his hand.

"Stupefy!"

Sirius left the stunned wizard lying on the floor, darting outside. Lupin heard yelling and what sounded like an explosion. When the sounds of shouts and movement had been gone for a few minutes, he tentatively moved to the door, which still hung open a crack. The immediate area was empty. He was in a shed behind what appeared to be the gardening supply store.

Suddenly he realized that he was in a hurry. After what Sirius had just done for him he couldn't fall down on his end. It was still very early in the morning, and the town was mostly deserted. Lupin apparated into Honeydukes. Thankfully the owners had not yet come down from their apartment above. Like he had done it a thousand times—which he probably had—Lupin hurried down the stairs into the basement, then through the trapped door. He tried to run the whole way back, but his body so exhausted from the previous night that he was forced to slow to a fast walk. He left the blanket crumpled on the floor, keeping the cloak as, although he was invisible, it would have been uncomfortable to be completely naked.

Lupin didn't even remember collapsing into his bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. Somehow he had remembered to reverse the disillusionment charm, which was a miracle. It was a good thing he did too because he was woken what had to be only a few hours after he'd fallen asleep.

"Professor Lupin!" The voice that reached him was Mcgonagall's, surprised but distinctly happy.

She stood in the door to his room. He sat up, bleary eyed, and realized that she was not alone. Behind here were a pare of agents. One of them was Scar, the other a witch.

Lupin clutched his blankets up to his chest. "Well I'm sorry for my indecency, but I wasn't expecting visitors so early. I was a exhausted when I got in this morning, you see."

Scar pushed rudely past Mcgonagall. "After what happened last night I'm surprised you're so calm. You're going to have to come with us, Professor, I'm afraid."

"What happened last night?" Lupin asked, in what he hoped was a convincing manner. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the werewolf loose in Hogsmeade! What else? There are reports you were seconds from biting a woman, but where distracted in some sort of fight with a stray dog."

Lupin tried to look confused. "Minerva?" He cast a look at Mcgonagall.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but Scar cut her off again.

"We have it on good intelligence that you did not take your prescribed potion last night. And that you were not on the Hogwarts grounds."

"Well of course I wasn't on the Hogwarts grounds," Lupin retorted indignantly. "I hadn't taken my potion. I spent the time in The Shrieking Shack. It's specially warded to keep me in during my... transformations. But I've told you this already."

"And do you have any witnesses?" Scar asked.

But this time Mcgonagall spoke too quickly for Scar to cut her off again. "Do you have any proof to the contrary?"

Her sharp voice brought a smile to his face when he was not on the receiving end.

"There are plenty of werewolves in the forest," Lupin offered, helpfully. "Just because I'm the only one you have on your census so far shouldn't make me the automatic culprit. Now, if you need some expertise in the matter of tracking them down... don't be afraid to ask."

Scar snorted, spinning on his heals and leaving the room without so much as an apology.

Mcgonagall turned to follow him. "I'll let you rest."

"Wait!" Lupin was about to jump up to follow her when he realized he was still not wearing clothes. "The daemon. What happened?"

Mcgonagall paused in the doorway. "A lot happened last night, but that can wait. Wash up, get dressed, and come see me in my office."

Lupin cleaned himself up as best he could, but staring in the mirror still made him unhappy. He was so pale, so old. He looked much more than his thirty-three years, and that was why he tried to avoid looking at his reflection unless it was absolutely necessary. Instantaneously brewing himself a travel mug full of coffee and bringing it with him, Lupin hurried to find Professor Mcgonagall.

On his way past the great hall, he couldn't help but overhear the gossip of a couple of fourth years, clustered around that day's copy of The Daily Prophet.

"It's not even in here," one of them whispered. "Sirius Black blew up half a street in Hogsmeade, and it's not even in The Prophet."

"Well it just happened a couple of hours ago, didn't it?" asked a witch, snatched the paper from his hands. "They wouldn't have got word yet."

At this point Lupin had stopped to listen, pretending to look out at the weather over the grounds. It was grey, threatening rain.

"I can't believe he got away again," came the frightened voice of another boy, and with it Lupin heaved a massive sigh of relief.

Half a street of damage. That was an exaggeration. There'd been a couple of boards missing off the back of the shop, at most. Lupin forced himself to keep walking. Sirius was alright. That was one question down. Now he needed to find out about that daemon. Made he'd just grab something small for breakfast first. He was feeling rather light headed.

"Lupin!" The voice boomed down the hall, venomous, anger which Snape was not even bothering to disguise.

In front of the students? Lupin found himself thinking, as he waited for the black robed man to bare down upon him. What could he possible have done this time to summon the wrath of Severus Snape?

What happened next took him completely by surprise. Snape was still meters away from him when he withdrew his wand, and before he knew it Lupin had been thrown backwards against the wall. His coffee cup skidded across the floor. Students were staring. There was a scream.

"Professor Snape!" Lupin was shocked, quickly pulling his wand from his robes.

They stood facing each other now, wands in hand. Snape was snarling, face contorted with rage.

"What in Merlin's name has come over you?" Lupin asked, fearful, not so much for himself but for the students surrounding them.

"I've been telling them from the beginning, and no one believed me!"

A curse shot from Snape's wand that Lupin barely managed to block.

"Telling them what? What the hell are you doing?" Lupin slowly edged sideways, trying to put his back to something other than a stone wall.

"That old friendships run deep, and that you were the one letting Sirius Black into the castle."

There were gasps from the onlookers.

"You've gone insane!"

"Stupify!"

Lupin blocked this spell as well, but he was exhausted. The last thing he needed right now was an all out duel with someone he would be evenly matched with at the best of times. Snape advanced, and he backed away, thankfully towards the door of the great hall. The other professors would surely intervene.

As he banged backwards through the double doors Snape fired another curse. It was dark magic, a spell Lupin didn't recognize right off the back. A classic shield charm deflected it, but his wand hand burned from the dissipating energy, and he skid a couple of feet backwards. The curse bounced off, shooting sideways and shattering one of the massive windows, so that glass rained down upon the halls screaming inhabitants.

Lupin hurried away from Snape then, trying to increase the distance between them. "Expelliarmus!"

It failed, a feeble attempt. But he feared to use anything else in the presence of the children.

"Stop this, Severus, please," he begged. "What have I done to give you that impression? Talk to me instead of putting the lives of the students in danger."

"The headmaster put their lives in danger the second he hired a werewolf to teach at their school," Snape shouted and the words rung out, seeming to echo off the walls of the massive room.

Lupin flinched, and Snape used this moment to fire his next curse. It was a wind curse, designed to knock Lupin off his feet. The gale shot through the hall, overturning chairs and even moving one of the long tables slightly. When Lupin finally grabbed hold of something, it was the edge of this very table. He was half crouched, blocked from Snape's direct line of fire by a pile of chairs. The whole centre of the hall was clear now, as the students had flattened themselves to the walls.

He had no time to look for other professors, for Snape had cast his next spell. Lupin was forced to role onto the table to avoid it A gash half a foot deep was cut into the stone floor where he'd been seconds before.

"You won't escape me!" Snape bellowed. "Finally one of you is going to pay. If it wasn't for James Potter and the scum he called friends she never would have died!"

Pushing himself to his feet, Lupin was suddenly overcome with understanding. The irrational anger, the almost tearful glint in Snape's dark eyes, it all made sense. Somehow Snape had put the pieces together that Sirius and Lupin had been in contact, and what he was facing now was the desperate revenge of a dangerous man, who had thrown all consequences to the wind.

Snape jumped up on the table to join him, but this time he was ready. A taser jinx, more effective than an ordinary stunning spell at penetrating a shield charm. A jet of blue electricity shot from the end of Lupin's wand. Snape tried to dodge, but it hit him in the left shoulder. It was sadly not his wand arm. A tray of food clattered to the ground as Snape fell, catching himself before he could fall off the table completely.

It was time to finish this. "Expelli-"

"Sectumsempra."

Snape was faster, and Lupin was suddenly on his back, blood soaking through the front of his robes. Lupin tried to sit up, to drag himself away across the table top. But the potion master was standing over him, wand pointed at his throat.

All Lupin could think, at that moment was, "_not now, not here, not in front of the children, struck down by Severus Snape of all people."_

But two jets of red light had hit Snape at the same time, and he toppled sideways to the ground. Lupin couldn't look up to see his saviours. The gashes on his front were too painful. As he slid slowly into unconscious all he could see was the ceiling of the great hall, grey with storm clouds.


End file.
